


Recklessness

by MsUtterson



Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn/Wildhorn & Bricusse & Cuden/Bricusse
Genre: (or something more?), Friends With Benefits, M/M, One Shot, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsUtterson/pseuds/MsUtterson
Summary: A somewhat younger Henry Jekyll than the one we meet in the musical wakes up one morning and thinks about what happened the night before.
Relationships: Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson
Kudos: 15





	Recklessness

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a production of Jekyll & Hyde the musical that had both Jekyll and Utterson in their late 20s, and heavily implied something had taken place between them before the events of the show. Make of that what you will, they say – here’s my take.

Henry knew he shouldn’t drink. Nothing good ever came from it.

Opening a bottle was like opening a door to a different world, one in which breathing felt easier. A glass was already excuse enough to let the restlessness residing inside him go uncontrolled, excuse enough to live a different life for a while. A couple of glasses more and some catastrophe was guaranteed to happen. Despite all that – because of it – Henry was always willing to join pub crawls, the first one to uncork a bottle of wine, and the last one to go to sleep. In between all that, he had plenty of time for all the escapades that made him feel like flying, until the flight turned into a crushing sense of self-hatred and an overwhelming fear of consequences. That was always followed by a promise of never again, two weeks of hard work around the clock, and then another night out.

And this time, he had dragged his best friend along.

In all honesty, Henry should have hired a herald to sing John’s praises for all he’d done to assure that Henry’s reputation remained mostly spotless, his fortune mostly secure. It wasn’t once or twice John had rushed to help Henry out of a mess he had unthinkingly gotten himself into. Wasn’t it just after New Year’s Day John had prevented Henry from putting his London apartment at stake in a game of cards? And only three weeks ago that he had managed to shoo away a barkeep demanding Henry to pay his tab right then, by a liberal application of legal terminology? Not to mention that especially embarrassing night when a reluctant John had had to serve as the middleman in between Henry and the young lady he had proposed to, after a mere two-hour acquaintance? (Unfortunately, getting the betrayed bride to give the ring back, the priceless ring that had been passed along in the Jekyll family for centuries, had been proven impossible – John had admitted his defeat after the girl sharply listed off three legal precedents relating to gift promises.)

So, how on earth was it possible that fifteen minutes ago, Henry had woken up in the arms of his friend? Woken up with the knowledge that they had spent most of the night doing things that men simply did not do with each other?

Or they certainly did, Henry wasn’t as naïve as to not know that. Actually, had he been able to shut off the siren of shame howling inside him and coldly examine the causes of his actions, he would have figured out knowing that was the exact reason he had ended up in John’s bed. It would’ve been untruthful of Henry to claim he had never wondered if he’d enjoy it with another man… and, even though he would’ve preferred digging himself a shallow grave in some back alley and staying there for good instead of finishing the thought, he had had a fantastic time last night.

But to do it with one’s best friend!

Waking up, Henry had not been able to look John in the eye – or, more accurately, to look anywhere in his general direction, nor to listen to a single word he said. Getting some clothes on and running out was all he could do – and even that hadn’t really gone according to plan, seeing how the waistcoat he was wearing wasn’t his own. How on earth could it be possible, how could it be that Henry had managed to contaminate John with his recklessness? The always down-to-earth, up-to-the-situation, ready-to-reason-with-him John?

It would be impossible to talk about what happened last night. It would be impossible to look John in the eye ever again. It would be… how could Henry as much as breathe in John’s presence without remembering, remembering how it had felt like, to kiss John and to run his fingers through his hair, and more – without thinking how it would feel like to do it all over again.

Henry slowed down, straightened John’s waistcoat, and turned around once. Stopped. Turned around once more and headed home, back to the safe, comforting darkness of his laboratory.

It was too dangerous. If anyone ever found out, both Henry’s reputation and even his freedom would be on the line. And if he pulled John along with him, he would lose the only person who was, time and time again, willing to help him escape all the trouble he regularly got himself into.

It would be better to decide that nothing had happened.

To decide to forget.


End file.
